The Adventures of Germany and Le Schtick
by x deadlypastaaa
Summary: In the midst of a World Meeting, Germany becomes nostalgic as he remembers talking to a stick just before he first met Italy in a tomato box. What is the story behind that stick? Why did he have it anyway?
1. Chapter 1: Another World Meeting

_Hi! This is my first story (a multi chapter) and I hope you enjoy. Please comment if you have any suggestions. This is only an introduction, set in a world meeting of course. Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. Please continue!_

**Chapter 1**

**-Another World Meeting-**

_World Meeting. Afternoon._

Germany sighed, wistfully resigning himself to another long and most likely unproductive World Meeting. What was the point, he reasoned, when all they did was bicker and disagree and probably end up causing more wars than stopping them? But, it was important to get out of the house for a while and interact with other nations, and besides their bosses wouldn't take no as an answer.

Beside him, Italy was lazily doodling on the meeting's agenda and yawning with half exaggeration. Truth be told, Germany was as exhausted as he was, his energy drained from a fruitless attempt to take control and bring order to the constantly bickering countries. He all but gave up on England and France, knowing full well that any word one said would be interrupted by insults and indignation from the other. But today, on this sweltering and hazy summer afternoon, all the nations seemed to be stubbornly grouchy and uncooperative.

To be honest, Germany would much rather be spending the day training in the vast fields back at his place, feeling the fresh summer breeze against his face as a source of refreshment. Heck, he'd rather spend the day lounging on the couch with a good beer while Italy whiled away the hours singing cheerfully as he made ample amounts of pasta. And he knew full well, as Italy sighed miserably during one of the nations' droning speeches-was it Estonia? Lifting his head with effort, he took a glance and saw by the Baltic's slight fidgeting and adjusting his glasses that yes, it was- that Italy, and possibly everyone else in the room, would much rather be experiencing a blissfully oblivious _siesta. _And yet, here they were, in a barely air-conditioned room full of disinterested nations fanning themselves with papers, only half-listening to speeches while trying not to suffocate in their maddeningly heat trapping formal attire.

In a daze, Germany began fiddling with a toothpick he procured from his (very organized) pocket. Smiling nostalgically, he slipped into a haze of memories from his not-so-distant past, remembering a time several centuries ago as if it were yesterday. Not noticing Italy's stare and Japan's drawing furiously in his secret sketchbook, Germany closed his eyes and allowed himself to travel back in time.

-end of chapter one-

_Author's note: Remember this is only a little taste of what's to come! Hope it didn't seem too boring :P Please review and tell me your opinion of this story so far, thanks! :D Anyway, I got inspired by the second episode (I think) of Hetalia: Axis Powers when Germany is talking to a stick XD. So I thought "'where'd he get that stick?!" and so proceeded to write a sort of backstory. Thanks for reading and tell me what you think!_

_x deadlypastaaa_


	2. Chapter 2: Dream

_Hello again! Many thanks and a hearty shoutout to all the viewers and followers I have as of now :3 To be honest I'm surprised (and of course excited) to see how many other people care so much about Herr Schtick! *sobs* We miss you, Herr Schtick…._

_Anyway, I of course do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. So here, the next chapter of TAoGaLS (title acronym XD) and make Doitsu proud! Onward, we shall avenge thee, Herr Schtick! ok I need to stop talking now c:_

**Chapter 2**

**-Dream-**

_Early morning. World War I._

Germany's startling blue eyes snapped open, his pupils dilated in shock. He sat up, mumbling incoherently to himself in German. Rubbing the fatigue from his eyes, he gave a sigh as he slowly remembered where he was. But the dream he had experienced left him disoriented and confused.

_What ze hell was that, _he thought. _Since when did I start dreaming about sticks?!_

Earlier that morning, in a deep but troubled slumber, Germany experienced a variety of...interesting visions that made no sense whatsoever. The jumbled mess had left him itching to organize something, if only to sort out his thoughts as he recovered.

His dream didn't even make sense, filled with people-nations, perhaps- that were total strangers to him. At least, he was absolutely sure he had never seen them before.

There was a fairly short but calm raven-haired man, with dark brooding eyes and a quiet and calm presence. Germany felt an inexplicable sense of friendship towards this stranger.

_Which makes no sense because I don't HAVE any friends, _he thought begrudgingly.

There was also another person present, also short (why he was friends with short people he didn't know), apparently oblivious and taking a carefree nap. Auburn-haired, with a wayward strand of hair that formed a strange curl, with a perpetually cheerful look on his face. Odd thing was, he felt even more of a bond towards this one person, and even felt familiar with him. Like he did meet him before, a long time ago before this whole war happened.

At that point a wisp of a memory drifted through Germany's troubled mind, disappearing just as quickly but not before he could steal a glance. He was very small, although he could not remember ever being so childlike, and in his tiny palms he held a push broom. For some reason, he felt very attached to this push broom, and as he examined the handle his tiny self remembered a promise, but Germany couldn't put it into words. Looking up, he barely caught the fading image of a small girl in a pale green dress, looking utterly heartbroken with tears in her eyes.

Then she vanished.

He could not remember ever feeling so determined, so anxious to return to this girl that he never knew. He didn't remember ever fighting so hard for something he loved, not even himself. And yet, this small version of Germany was a complete stranger.

The vision faded and the dreaming Doitsu moved along, and the dream quickly turned sour. All around him he was haunted by evil people, doing evil things to the one object he desired most. And that object? Well, it was certainly questionable why he grew so attached to it…

The most horrifying point of this whole collage of mixed memories and memories-to-be all ended in the sad demise of his one true friend.

Germany woke up suddenly, but not until one lasting image burned through his mind that filled him with complete devastation and despair, as if the nation itself mourned for the loss-

A single cold gravestone, crumbling into nothingness, with the 4 words he somehow dreaded most:

"_Here lies Herr Schtick"_

-end of chapter two-

_**Author's note: ^^' I don't even know. Ummm...hope you...enjoyed? *shrugs* Anyway, please review and tell me what you think about this... how shall I put this... interesting **__**(yes yes very interesting) **__**chapter! **_

_**\- x deadlypastaaa**_


	3. Chapter 3: Best Friend

_Sorry I haven't updated for a while :/ Anyway, here's chapter 3! _

_Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. Or actual countries either._

**Chapter 3**

**-Best Friend-**

_Afternoon. World War I._

It was midday. Sunny, bright, and excruciatingly boring.

Germany plodded through the forest, mechanically placing one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right, headed to virtually nowhere. He didn't care anymore. he needed an actual meal, some fresh wurst maybe, and a good drink.

But the German army had all but abandoned him, apparently, cowering back and shooing him ahead, making halfhearted excuses. "Go ahead," they said. They didn't want to be present in what was supposedly going to be an alleged "epic battle" of two nations. A descendant of Rome, a man Germany deeply admired and respected. Truth be told, being a nation was not as pleasant as the average citizen expected. Always ordered around, being caught up in politics and pressured for opinions, representing an ever-growing population, suffering a thousand deaths with every war, conflict, and plague-it certainly wasn't a piece of cake.

But now… Germany was often required to interact with other nations, but this new country that he was supposed to be fighting could be different. Was this country anything like his glorious ancestor? Tough, heroic, loyal to a fault even, everything Germany wanted to be? Perhaps they would understand the tedious business of being a country.

(None of them knew as of yet how wrong he was.)

If only someone could understand him…

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Germany stopped to catch his breath. Ahh, what he wouldn't give for an ice cold beer. But what good would a beer do, when the general found him screaming in his tent that morning and decided to ban Germany from drinking beer? He did have a bit to drink last night, but he never knew it would end up like that...

Perhaps he was hallucinating, or maybe the effects of the alcohol still hadn't worn off, or maybe he was still rattled by his boss yelling at him, but Germany gave a cry of relief when he found the most perfect companion to spend the rest of his days as a nation with. There, in the precise center of a lush green clearing, framed beautifully by the rays of sunlight, was his savior.

A beautiful wooden stick.

If he was in any sane state of mind it would be just a plain old twig, but THIS was special. This was something that would rewrite history. Picking it up gingerly, Germany gave a whoop of joy, though he was still a couple miles from the Italian border. The disoriented nation, which he would never _ever _admit to doing, began fussing over the poor stick. "_Mein gott_! This is no state for you to be in! Ah, Herr Schtick, please speak to me! The nerve of that _dummkopf _who abandoned you! You must be hungry, perhaps I'll give you…"

Germany began rustling in his pack until he saw a signal. "The signal! The troops have begun invading! We must hurry, Herr Schtick…" With new resolve, Germany proceeded, with his newfound friend in tow.

Later, the pair had successfully made it over the border, with Germany impressed by Herr Schtick's ability to knock people out with a single strike. Silently of course, the nation began conversing animatedly with his companion, and giving him updates on the life of a nation. Herr Schtick was such a good listener, although he rarely said anything. After proper introduction, the two became close friends, if Germany said so himself. (Later he denied knowing anything about Herr Schtick, but we all know better.)

As the pair strolled (or rather, Germany carried Herr Schtick), it struck him that they hadn't had lunch yet. Oh, such terrible manners, not taking your new friend out for a drink! _Shame_, Germany scolded himself. He apologized profusely and promised to share some delicious liverwurst, but luckily Herr Schtick did not seem to think it was a problem, judging from the silence. _But what if he's giving me the silent treatment?!_ Germany worried to himself. _I'm already making a bad first impression!_

All thoughts of making it up to his friend went out the window when he saw a strangely placed tomato crate. _In the middle of the woods._ Suddenly remembering the mission he was sent to in the first place, Germany did a customary facepalm and proceeded with caution.

He would have said nothing else was out of the order when suddenly the box began to shake, a voice clearly indicating someone was inside, despite the voice's panicked pleas. "There's nothing in here!" a high-pitched voice cried in fear. But unless his enemy took Germany as stupid, which was clearly not the case, the voice seemed to be quite skittish.

Risking immediate ambush, Germany pried open the wooden crate, ignoring the shouts that got increasingly higher and higher the closer he got to opening the box. Herr Schtick proved quite useful in the task, as Germany wasn't sure how much longer he could take without suffering splinters, and injuries would me most inconvenient if there was to be a battle.

Slowly but surely, the lid lifted itself as the box began shaking frantically and babbling nonsense (Germany only caught two words: "tomato fairy")...just...one...more..._centimeter_…

With a shout, Germany was flung from the box as the lid finally detached. And there was quite the unexpected sight…

A short man, auburn-haired with a strangely familiar curl that Germany would soon grow accustomed to, pleading for mercy in a shrill voice slipping between Italian and English. Momentarily stunned, Germany quickly realized that this was easy bait, and he had stupidly walked straight into the trap. Looking around quickly to detect any signs of movement, he swiftly picked up the still-screaming Italian and hustled out of the forest. So much for an epic battle.

What he didn't know was that the two nations would become nearly inseparable and change history forever… But what did that mean for Herr Schtick?

-end of chapter three-


	4. Chapter 4: Cuckoo

_Sup Hetalians! Here's a new chapter of the beloved (well not really that famous) TAoGaLS! Thanks so much for all the reviews and comments this story has gotten so far. Make Doitsu proud! Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia or its characters or any of its extremely catchy songs, my weird mind could never make something so Prussian-level awesome!_

**Chapter 4**

**-Cuckoo-**

_Morning. Shortly before World War II._

The sounds of sawing, hammering, and hard work filled the workshop as Germany toiled away. He poured out his frustration into the mechanical and repetitive motions of building cuckoo clocks. (Don't ask.)

But Germany wouldn't even _be_ in this utterly ridiculous situation if it wasn't for that...that _France_. The anger suffocated the laboring nation's mind before he could even come up with a proper insult to describe that insufferable excuse of a nation.

_Focus, Ludwig. The sooner you finish that dummkopf's nonsense, the sooner you can relax. Shame on that pansy of a nation! And he blames it all on me, while it happens to be convenient enough to get some gold along the way._

Upon triggering himself yet again, Germany continued slicing the wood with such force and precision he might as well have been beheading a Titan. (See what I did there?HMMM?Ok never mind.) Fortunately, Herr Schtick seemed to sympathize completely and watched with content silence as the German nation skillfully built the strange structures. At least Herr Schtick understood him and always listened to him...although sometimes his wooden companion's lack of speech made for some awkward silence at times. But today, the silence was peaceful and welcoming.

But speaking of cuckoo clocks….The sounds of their musical chirping filled the small room, including the French-headed cuckoo clock that Germany had built to mock the country. And their musical chirping reminded him of a special song…

-Previously-

Germany was all ready to start his day, a new and fresh start. But it seemed Italy had other plans…

"Germany guess what! I wrote a special song for you~" The excited nation exclaimed in his face, which was merely inches away. Wincing from the burst of noise, Germany sighed and had no choice but to resign himself to listening to another song of Italy's. But he had to admit, this song got Germany a little curious-though it was strange to make a song for your enemy. But that's Italy for you.

"All right, let's hear it."

Italy strummed a few harmonious chords on the guitar and began to sing, stunning the normally uptight nation.

"_Germany, Germany, Germany is a reallyreally nice place_

_Even though I'm your prisoner, you give me food_

_And it doesn't suck like English food~_

_Sausages with cheeses always taste so good._

_It'd be heaven for a dog, Yeah, that's Germany~_

_Tell me, how is it you Germans are so robust? You're crushing me with your intimidation._

_My fragility causes me to openly weep out of fear; Your women terrify me._

_Is it the normal to drink a barrel of beer and then bust it on somebody's head?_

_Please don't come to my place in large mobs! German tourists are scary!_

_Even the girls that are from Germany are more rugged than I am._

_Yahoo!~"_

Germany sat there completely unnerved. He was pretty sure Herr Schtick was equally as stunned.

On one hand, if you asked him his honest opinion Germany would say that Italy had a rather good singing voice, not to mention strumming the perfect chords while singing...well, whatever you could call those lyrics.

Germany wasn't sure whether the song was meant to be praise or an insult, or if his simply intimidating manner made the fragile Italian nervous. But right now he was having none of it. He would tolerate no more nonsense from this weird Italian.

Italy stood there with a perpetual lazy smile as he said, "Ve~ Did you like my song Germany?" Not noticing the German's frantic search for a large box, Italy continued to blather on and on about his, ah, _interesting _song.

"It's so beautiful don't you think? I think it suits you~"

Germany shared a look with Herr Schtick, who decided it was unwise to say anything at the moment.

"Uh, ja, sure…" he replied distractedly as he quickly located the duct tape and the fairly large box.

"I worked so hard on it, do you want to hear it aga-MR. GERMANY PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! _Abbi pietà di me per favore, Dio mi aiuti-!_" The poor Italian squealed and pleaded as Germany firmly pushed Italy into the box.

Working quickly, he sealed the box tight and scrawled _fragile, this side up ↑ _as the box continued to shake and sob in Italian. _Mein gott, he's so loud. _ He carefully poked a few fairly large holes to allow the nation to breathe and proceeded to ship him off back to Italy.

-Present-

Looking back on his decision, Germany sighed. Perhaps he was too hard on the poor guy, and besides the silence other than the eerie chirping started to bother him. Herr Schtick had yet to say a single word; Germany believed he was still his shock.

_Great, now mein schticky friend is making me feel guilty._

But, he decided to savor the silence for a while. It did help him concentrate and restore things back to order. Ah, if things could stay this way, even for just a while….

Which was promptly interrupted when a certain happy-go-lucky nation appeared at the door…

"Germany help me find a job!...My family's becoming poor :" He pleaded, but was promptly kicked out from the house.

"DON'T COME BACK BOTHERING ME FOR A JOB!" The annoyed Germany yelled. Yet the Northern half of Italy was stubborn as well, and was reduced to begging in desperation.

Germany was thoroughly ticked off when the nation reappeared at his window. Italy realized this was his last chance, and so he presented his tale of pity all the while sporting the most convincing puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

"Please Germany~ We have almost nothing to eat and I'd do anything for a job….You don't even have to pay me! I Pleeease, I'd do the work even if you didn't give me a payment…"

Immediately Germany's guilt intensified for kicking him out earlier, and it was his duty as a nation to assist another nation in need. There was no other choice, and besides an extra pair of hands would help him with his work. Apparently Italy had quite the hand in the arts, and he was close with France...perhaps he could negotiate with Italy on his side. And so, Germany made his decision. To be honest, he would do anything to have an ally-besides Herr Schtick of course.

"Oh, Italy…"

Wordlessly, Herr Schtick disappeared from the room to welcome their new guest.

-end of chapter four-

_So, hey guys… it's been a while *hides in corner* I'm sorry I haven't been updating lately, unfortunately I couldn't post when some weird 503 service unavailable thing popped up….But don't worry! Although I couldn't post I am currently writing the next chapters! Hopefully I can update more often after that.. / '_

_Until next time, mein schticky friends! Hasta la pasta!_

_-x deadlypastaaa_


	5. Chapter 5: Ally

_Enjoy chapter 5! Wow, the tale of Herr Schtick was a lot longer than I thought…_

_Disclaimer- I don't own Hetalia or its characters, all rights go to their respective owners!_

**Chapter 5**

**-Ally-**

_World War II._

Germany rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Finally his long unrequited vengeance would be satisfied!

"This is amazing Herr Schtick! We are successfully advancing. Now it's France's turn to lose the war…" Herr Schtick, as usual, said nothing, but this didn't discourage Germany one bit. At last, France would be the one making _him _cuckoo clocks. They seemed silly but you'd be surprised how much work it required to actively run a cuckoo clock business for one of the most annoying countries in the world.

However, Italy had a different opinion. As he watched the German troops marching towards the oncoming battle, he couldn't help but feel a bit upset. Although Germany was his friend, France was his older brother. And family always comes first-_after food, anyway,_ the Italian thought as his mind wandered lazily to the thought of a delicious, cheesy bowl of pasta…

Italy decided to make a batch of pasta, although every time it was hard deciding which sauce he wanted. _Marinara, alfredo, pesto, fettuccine, penne, linguine, spaghetti- the possibilities are endless! _The nation thought to himself. And cooking always calmed him down with the delicious smells wafting through the house. He soon settled into the familiar routine of cooking up a culinary masterpiece that would put any Olive Garden to shame. As he settled down to eat the freshly made delight, Italy decided to set some aside for Germany. _And talk to him about this scary war business. What did Big Brother ever do to him, anyway?_

Meanwhile, Germany watched in slightly frightening delight as the troops marched towards victory. He gripped Herr Schtick tighter in his excitement. Although he would never admit it, Germany sometimes (privately) started squealing when he got excited about something. "THIS IS IT HERR SCHTICK! I can taste the sweet victory already…." Germany exclaimed as his voice rose an octave or two. He could only watch on the edge of his seat with a giddy grin on his face when suddenly…

*Ding dong*

Germany groaned. Who could possibly interrupt him at the best part?! He had a war to win!

The knocking increasingly grew more frantic until Germany reluctantly left his perch to answer the door. _Someone had better be dying..._

Indeed, Italy was visibly upset about something. And when he was upset, it was either over something incredibly stupid or incredibly earth-shattering.

Even through his obvious distress, the sunny Italian forced a smile. "Hiya Germany! I was just stopping by and...and.." Italy's happy facade slipped away as he began crying and blubbering. Worried, Germany took Italy inside and awkwardly tried comforting the nation. Truth be told, since they met on that fateful day Germany had taken to caring about Italy, though he had been infuriating at times. Knowing that the nation often spoke gibberish when he was upset, he listened closely to the ongoing rant.

_Hmmm..let's see..."France".."World war"..."Big brother"? ..."Germany"... "pasta"..."nom nom nom"?!_

_Ah, I see what this is about.._

"Excuse me Italy...that is all quite unfortunate but please give me a moment..." The German quickly excused himself to find Herr schtick.

_"S_o that's the big deal! What am I supposed to do?!" Germany sighed, ending a long rant about the whole deal to Herr Schtick. During the long session of guy talk, mostly on Germany's part, not once did Herr Schtick object to his opinions. Such a good listener…

Herr Schtick regarded him thoughtfully. To any other person, the stick seemed to be sitting there. But this was no mundane stick. Finally, after a moment, Herr Schtick looked at Germany, staring as if to say _search for the answer within. _Finally, Germany received an epiphany and he knew exactly what to do. "_Danke _Herr Schtick! You're the best ally anyone could ask for!" Germany cried, pulling his friend into a warm embrace. As usual, Herr Schtick did not respond but deep down, Germany knew in his wooden heart he appreciated it.

With newfound confidence, Germany strolled into the living room where Italy sat listlessly, his eyes slightly puffy and red as he stared at the television. Wordlessly, Germany took a seat beside the Italian and (awkwardly) put his arm around the fragile being. "Don't worry," the German said softly. "I know someone who can help us."

-end of chapter five-


	6. Chapter 6: Musical Mischief

**Chapter 6**

**-Musical Mischief-**

_Aghhh sorry for not posting everyone! Have an emergency dose of Herr Schtick. '_

_Another day at the Austrian manor, home of the German Potato Sandwich._

Ah, another pleasant spring day at the home of a certain aristocrat. All was normal (as normal as something can be in Hetalia, anyway): Prussia was off with his shenanigans, Austria was enjoying the finer things in life, namely classical music, and Germany was (presumably) either diligently training or brooding.

_Presumably._

As in, not counting Herr Schtick.

And, while Germany usually preferred order and seriousness, Herr Schtick had opened his eyes to the small joys of mischief. Thanks to his friend, Germany was now able to appreciate the childlike glee of pulling pranks.

Yes, pranks. _The _Germany, the one and only Doitsu known for his precision and tactical ways of majesty, was pulling pranks. Well, it was Herr Schtick's idea anyway. But Germany, feeling strangely adventurous, decided on a whim that, hey, why not?! (Which was very unlike him. But, with the centuries he's spent with his loyal companion, he's changed.)

Although Herr Schtick was Germany's secret friend for centuries, the small bit of his logical side that remained warned him not to inform any nations of his best friend. It had been hard at times avoiding getting caught, and he was more than sure that Italy was suspicious of him, but it was all for Herr Schtick's wellbeing. That's what friends are for!

But friends are also for creating memories. And if Herr Schtick wasn't around then who knows what would happen to Germany!

Never before had Germany realized that pranking Austria would yield the most laughs, after all he had never tried. But Herr Schtick, ever the genius, had let out his inner Prussia and decided to mess with the hilariously uptight aristocrat. And Germany, feeling nostalgic, lost himself to the memories of playing around with Prussia when he was very young, and the duties of being a country were far off in the distance.

Expertly, Germany crept through the spacious hallways of the Austrian manor, skillfully rolling into the shadows of various curtains and potted plants. As he heard well-polished boots clicking around in the kitchen, discreetly trying to conceal the fact that Austria was _totally _eating half of Germany's freshly baked cake.

Nodding slightly to Herr Schtick, the dynamic duo continued their mission once the coast was clear. The pump of adrenaline intensified as they caught sight of the very door they were seeking.

BEHOLD, AUSTRIA'S MUSIC ROOM!

An eager grin crept onto Germany's face, and he was sure Herr Schtick would be wearing the same smile. Victory was near! Quietly, the German pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and crept across the lush carpet to the one and only…

Austria's grand piano.

Painstakingly polished smooth, not a single speck of dust dared to grace the glossy obsidian surface of the Austrian's beloved instrument. The room, painted a subtle royal blue, was filled with a musical atmosphere. Even now, calm classical music whispered across the room from the record player. Dark, polished shelves stretching to the ceiling were filled with millions of pieces of music, from every instrument imaginable, collected and composed over the course of history. These were entire shelves of Austria's feels.

There was a strange glint in Herr Schtick's eyes(?) as they focused on the target- a few sheets of music left on the piano. Apparently Austria felt bright and fluffy today, judging from _Chopsticks _left sitting there, begging to be played. He didn't play it often, because "music is a serious endeavor", but we all know that simply isn't true. I mean, even Austria of all people wants to play Chopsticks (cough cough his favorite piece of all time)! Herr Schtick approached the piano, and in a few adrenaline-filled seconds it was over.

"Pfffttttcchhhh….."

Germany (and Herr Schtick of course) burst out into laughter, with Austria's alarmed footsteps sounding quickly down the hall. "What on earth…?" Blue eyes widened, and Germany quickly skidded out of the room. (With a strange branch in his hand, I might add.)

Oh no… did he leave Chopsticks on the piano again?!

With a horrified look on his face, he braced himself for what was happening next…

OH, THE HORROR!

On his beloved sheets of music, Germany had punched holes of...oh, it was too much to bear… a _godforsaken __smiley face_, of all things. Austria absolutely _loathed _smiley faces.

Overcome with sorrow, the Austrian fell to his knees and lamented his tragedy, a song about it already in the works. "WHY, GERMANY, WHY?! D':" He realized that he would have to avenge his dear Chopsticks, and with steely determination he decided to punish Germany and throw his dignity into the next century. This would not be a failure, no, this was not going to be like the time his army attacked itself and lost 10,000. NO, this was a victory worth making history!

Unknowingly, Prussia lurked behind a shelf of musical tools as he pressed the RECORD button off. Smirking to himself, the mischievous albino prepared himself for filming the next segment-Germany's (probably ineffective but still hilarious) "punishment". Such excellent opportunities for blackmail were so deliciously satisfying as the devious Prussian silently followed Austria.

This was going to be such an awesome documentary to show at the World Meeting.

-end of chapter six-

_A/N: You decide why Austria hates smiley faces. If you leave a hilarious headcanon then I'd gladly turn it into a story :) (but only when I'm done laughing). XD_

_x deadlypastaaa~ FLYING NIMBUS, AWAY!_


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